


So Kiss Me

by handahbear



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Face Painting, Fluff, Kissing Booths, M/M, Street Fair, pining!jolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handahbear/pseuds/handahbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac manages to convince Enjolras to man the kissing booth at the street fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any grammatical errors; this was posted without a beta.

The idea of a street fair to raise money for their cause had been Courfeyrac’s idea. Combeferre had whole heartedly approved, and Enjolras had agreed to help plan the event. He had not agreed to this, however.

‘It’s for the good of mankind’ does nothing to convince Enjolras of the worthiness of this endeavor. He would much rather oversee the entire operation instead of being forced to lock lips with any and every one with a dollar and the inclination. ‘You’re the most attractive to both sexes out of all of us’ earns Courfeyrac an eye roll and a withering glare. In a last ditch effort, Courfeyrac blurts out, “Grantaire will be there.” Enjolras’s eyes brighten, his cheeks flush, and the words, “I’ll do it,” are out of his mouth before he can stop to think about it.

On the actual day of the kissing booth/street fair/sure to be an utter debacle, Enjolras spends two hours throwing clothes around his room in an attempt to put together an outfit, then realizes that everyone will only be seeing his torso, and spends another hour trying to get his hair to lay exactly perfect. By the time he feels reasonably confident enough to leave the house, he’s almost half an hour late, and he practically sprints to the chosen location.

After apologizing profusely to Feuilly, who was somehow conned into manning the booth while he was gone (to be fair, the only visitor had been Bahorel, so Feuilly had no cause for complaint, and they were twenty dollars further towards their goal), Enjolras took up his place in the booth, watching enviously as Feuilly strode triumphantly away. Courfeyrac smirked at him from his ticket booth. Enjolras glared at him and tried to put on a happy face as more and more people milled about the booth.

Enjolras not so subtly sneaks looks at Grantaire, where he is busy painting children’s (and some adult’s) faces. Grantaire catches him once and smiles back, causing Enjolras to blush furiously and turn away.

He kisses a handful of giggling teenage girls, and Courfeyrac comes by on his break and demands a kiss, dumping a handful of change on the sill of the window of the booth and dragging Enjolras in by the front of his shirt, causing many wolf-whistles and a sudden surge of men to come to the booth.

Enjolras is fairly certain he needs to gargle an entire container of mouthwash when they finally decide to shut down all of the booths. Grantaire saunters over, smiling as usual, his own face painted to look like a cat.

“Don’t look so overjoyed,” he laughs, leaning against the side of the booth. “People might think you actually had a good time today.”

Enjolras blushes and looks anywhere but at Grantaire. “It was, uh, interesting…a little weird.”

“Courfeyrac told me your booth made the most money out of anyone’s.”

“Courfeyrac’s a rotten liar.”

Grantaire laughs again. “No, really. I can see why, though. Who wouldn’t want to kiss someone like you?”

“S-someone like me?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet Grantaire’s. The other mans eyes sparkle with amusement.

“So. What’s the going rate for a kiss around here?”

“…w-what?”

Grantaire grins. “You heard me.” He pulls a dollar out of his pocket and places it on the sill of the booth. “That about right? That’s what the sign says, at least.”

Enjolras’s eyes flicker between the money and Grantaire.

Grantaire smiles gently, moving to stand in front of Enjolras, one hand reaching forward to rest on Enjolras’s shoulder. “Just one kiss. What’s one more kiss?”

One more kiss is the difference between friends and lovers, between keeping feelings to oneself and letting them out, between mere friendship and love. Enjolras smiles nervously and leans forward as he has so many times today, and presses his lips to Grantaire’s.

This is nothing like any of the other kisses he’s given today.

It is soft and sweet and full of promise. Grantaire’s hand on his shoulder moves to the back of his neck and Enjolras rests one hand on Grantaire’s chest and the other on the sill of the booth.

The kiss turns into more than just a kiss, and they don’t break apart until Combeferre yells at the both of them to knock it off because they both need to help pack things up. Grantaire pulls away reluctantly, smiling shyly at Enjolras. Enjolras can feel himself blushing violently, an inane smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.


End file.
